Fake it Baby

by Tia Siren

  “Bullshit. Who could be a better guardian? I have the money. I can buy a home. I can give her everything she wants and needs. I don’t understand why I even have to jump through hoops to get this done,” I said with exasperation.

  “It isn’t about who has the most money, though that certainly is a factor. They want to know the child is going to be safe and loved. They don’t want to know a team of nannies will be bringing up the child. Hell, that’s basically what the foster care system or an orphanage is. They want a real daddy and preferably a real mommy in the picture. They have this idea of what a happy home looks like, and that’s what they want to see,” he explained.

  “Bullshit!” I repeated. “How can they be so backassward? This is the twenty-first century. Are any kids raised in a two-parent household anymore?”

  “I know, I know. You’re angry and frustrated. Let me make a few calls, and I’ll get back to you with my colleague’s information. We’ll get this taken care of. In the meantime, keep your nose clean and don’t do anything that will make them hesitate about giving you the child.”

  “Fine.”

  “Jake?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m really sorry about your sister. I lost a brother to the war. It’s a tough business,” George said softly.

  “Thank you,” I said and hung up.

  I needed a drink. Preferably several drinks. I’d had no idea how much trouble I had been in for when I decided I was going to raise Iris. I had assumed I would waltz into Phoenix, pick up the baby, and go home. Court and lawyers and all the other bullshit had not been on my agenda. Nothing should have been this hard as far as I was concerned.

  I grabbed my credit card and key card and headed down to the hotel bar. It wasn’t quite as upscale as I was used to, but liquor was liquor, and I needed to take the edge off. I walked into the bar and instantly felt eyes on me. They weren’t the looks I was used to.

  I looked down and grinned. I wasn’t getting the looks I was used to because I didn’t look like I usually did. I was in shorts and a T-shirt and my tats were visible. I kept them covered in business meetings because I dealt with a lot of stuffy old guys who couldn’t pull their heads out of their asses and see my success. All they saw were the tats.

  Here in this bar, I got to be the old Jake. No one knew who I was. It gave me a new kind of freedom, and I was going to enjoy it for a while.

  I sat at the bar and waited for the young bartender to make his way over to me. “Whiskey, straight up.”

  The guy quickly poured me a drink. I slammed it down, loving the way it burned as it slid down my throat and hit me in the gut. “Another, please.”

  The second glass I took a little slower. I stared into the amber liquid, knowing there were never any answers at the bottom of the glass but enjoying the mission regardless.

  “Let me guess, football?” came a woman’s voice from my left.

  I looked up to see her smiling at me.

  “Excuse me?” I asked, not sure I had heard her correctly.

  “You. You’re in the NFL. You’re too stocky to be in the NBA or the MLB.”

  “What makes you think I play football?” I asked, interested to hear her opinion of me.

  She turned her stool to face me, her crossed knees exposed in the short skirt she had on. “I know my men.” She winked. “You’re sitting in the bar in the best hotel in the city while dressed in casual attire. If you weren’t staying in the hotel, they wouldn’t have let you in here dressed like that.”

  I glanced around and noticed I did stick out like a sore thumb in a room full of suits and ties. “You’re observant.”

  She smiled, clearly encouraged to continue. “The arms say it all. Only football players can pull off that rugged look.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “You think so?”

  The woman reminded me of a cat purring between my legs, begging for affection. I had a feeling she was either a groupie or a prostitute. She was dressed for sex. She was skilled in the art of the pickup, which had me leaning toward hooker.

  I drank down the rest of my whiskey and caught the eye of the bartender, holding up my glass. The woman purring beside me was waiting for me to buy her a drink as well.

  “I’m not a football player,” I told her. “I’m visiting a friend. I could never afford to stay in a hotel like this. In fact, I just got out of prison. He’s helping me out while I look for a job. Know anywhere that’s hiring?”

  The look on her face was awesome. It was as if I had poured ice-cold water over her head.

  “No, I don’t,” she said before spinning around on the stool and heading to the other end of the bar.

  The bartender was grinning when he brought me my drink. “I was wondering how that was going to play out. Miss Violet is a regular in here if you know what I mean. We’ve asked her to leave so many times, but she keeps turning up. I can ask her to leave if you want,” he suggested.

  I laughed. “She isn’t going to bother me anymore. She’s fine. A girl’s gotta work,” I said with a wink.

  “If she figures out who you really are, she’ll be coming back,” the bartender warned.

  I looked at him carefully. “You know who I am?”

  He nodded. “This is my night job. I’m in school to become a computer programmer. I know who you are.”

  I smiled. “Stay in school—unless you develop something; then drop out and get it out there,” I said with a grin.

  He laughed. “I wish. Everything I have been trying to develop is either buggy or has already been done.”

  I shrugged a shoulder. “If it were easy, I wouldn’t be as rich as I am.”

  He nodded his head. “I know, I know. I have to find the one thing people don’t know they’re missing.”

  “Exactly. I would suggest getting out on the street and talking to people. Ask them what it is they want. Then you have to figure out how to beat me to it,” I said, chuckling again.

  He rolled his eyes. “One of these days, I’m going to be sitting across from you in what I imagine is a very big conference room. You’re going to be begging me to work for you, or you’re going to want to buy the software I’ve developed.”

  I smirked. “I wouldn’t be surprised if that did happen. Happens every day in my world.”

  The young, eager man walked away to pour another drink, leaving me with my own thoughts. They weren’t happy thoughts. My release earlier today had helped somewhat, but I still felt miserable. The one thing I knew to do to prove I meant what I had said about making up for lost time was being kept out of my grasp. I had to get Iris. I had to do right by her to make up for the shitty things I had done to my family.

  I had thought I could count on Avery to help me, but she hated me as well. That wasn’t hard to believe. I should have expected as much. I had been a dick to her. I smirked, thinking about the look on her face when I had proposed marriage to her. If it had been in any other situation, it would have been funny. Unfortunately, the reality was that she was my last hope for getting Iris.

  Avery wanted nothing more than for me to go away. If she had a magic wand, she would wave it, and poof, I would be gone. I wasn’t that easy to get rid of.

  “Another?” the bartender asked.

  I nodded. “Sure. Why not? It isn’t like I have to work tomorrow.”

  “Are you on vacation?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “No. Definitely not a vacation.”

  “Business?”

  I wasn’t interested in a bar therapy session. “Yes,” I said, hoping he would quit prying. “I’m in town for business but have nothing on the schedule for tomorrow.”

  “Oh, good. I bet you work a lot. I hope you get the chance to kick back and maybe do a little sight-seeing.”

  I smirked. “I grew up here. I’ve seen enough of the sights.”

  “Oh, I didn’t realize that. Well, cool. Enjoy your visit home.”

  “Thanks,” I said. It was going to be a real hoot.

  By the bottom
of the fourth glass, I was feeling the sweet bliss of drunken numbness. If I drank one more, I could pass out and not have to think about anything at all. Each time Tracy’s face appeared in my mind, I quickly blocked it out and pushed it to the back. I was not going to lose my shit in the bar.

  “Last one,” I called out, holding up my empty glass.

  The young guy hesitated before moving to pour me another whiskey.

  “Thanks,” I said, hoping I wasn’t slurring my words.

  I only managed to get half of it down before I decided I better find my room before I had to be carried. I did my best to appear sober as I walked through the main lobby to the elevators but had a feeling I was failing miserably. I didn’t care.

  By some miracle, I got the key card in the door and stumbled inside. I kicked off my shoes as I walked to the bedroom and faceplanted on the firm king-sized mattress. The room was spinning. I moaned before rolling to my side, hoping that would make it stop. I remembered an old trick from my younger years and rolled onto my back, dangling one leg off the side of the bed until my foot hit the floor. It helped some. I closed my eyes and let the sweet oblivion of drunkenness pull me under.

  I didn’t want to think about anything. There would be plenty of time for that later.

  Chapter Eleven

  Avery

  Sally had put me to work. I knew she was doing it for my own good, and I didn’t mind it a bit. I needed to keep busy. I had wallowed in misery long enough. I had spent most of yesterday in my pajamas, bawling. I knew it was ineffective. Sally had tried like crazy to cheer me up. Nothing worked. She told me it was the grief of losing Tracy that was finally kicking me. I had been so focused on Iris, I hadn’t had the time to really think about what I had lost.

  Yesterday, I had given myself the day to be sad with the promise I would pick myself up, dust off, and move forward. The time for action was now. Sally clearly believed that as well. When I got out of bed and stumbled into the kitchen for coffee, she had been waiting for me. After pouring me a cup of coffee and giving me a couple Advil for my head, she got right to business. She had given me a huge flat of flowers to plant in the backyard. I happily accepted the task, wanting to be outside in the sun.

  I jabbed the small shovel into the dark soil and made a small hole. It felt good to do something other than cry or stress over what I was going to do. I put one of the plants in the soil and gently patted the dirt around it, being careful not to break the stem. It was a tedious yet cathartic process. The brilliant colors helped lift my mood as well. I thought about when I would buy my own home. I would plant irises and tulips and all of Tracy’s favorite flowers. Every spring and summer, the blooms would remind me of her—and what I had lost.

  “Those look beautiful!” Sally exclaimed, stepping onto the back patio.

  “Thank you. Really, thank you for giving me something to do.”

  She smiled and nodded. “Of course. Thank you for doing it. My body isn’t as agile as it used to be, and kneeling and bending are no longer quite so easy. I love the way petunias spread out. The contrasting purple and yellow are going to look gorgeous in a few weeks.”

  I pulled my gloves off and checked the time. “I better get cleaned up. I have a short shift at the library today and then I’m going to be pounding the pavement. I have to get a job.”

  “You will. I know you will,” she said confidently. “All you have to do is get one person to give you a chance. Then you’ll wow their socks off.”

  I wasn’t so convinced, and after the meeting with the lawyer yesterday, I was still struggling to find my self-confidence. I felt broken. Sally promised me that was a good thing. It meant I could be put back together stronger than ever before.

  I scoffed. “I can’t even get them to give me an interview. I can’t wow them without actually doing something. Accounting is more of a do and see kind of thing. If they won’t give me a chance, I can’t prove my skills. If I don’t get any leads today, I’m going to look for any job. I don’t care if I’m flipping burgers. I need a full-time job.”

  “You put all that out of your mind,” Sally said.

  “I’m not trying to be a downer, Sally. Really, I’m not. I’m being realistic. I’ll keep looking for an accounting job, but I will take any full-time job I can get at this point,” I said, looking her in the eye.

  She sighed. “As long as you keep your chin up. You keep looking. Never settle.”

  “I promise I won’t. I’m not going to let my degree get dusty. I will find a way to put it to use at some point. Right now I need to find a job, any job.”

  “I know you’re still thinking about what that horrible lawyer said. She didn’t know what she was talking about. I’m only sorry I wasted your time. I’m going to talk with one of my old friends who practiced law for fifty years before retiring. He’ll know what to do or who to direct us to. That woman had no idea what she was talking about,” she fumed. “I can’t believe she has the audacity to claim she’s the best in the state.”

  I shrugged. “She is one of the top lawyers in the area. I don’t think she was trying to be mean. The woman could use a lesson in manners. I guess she’s probably good because she doesn’t pull any punches. I mean, if she talked like that to me, I can only imagine how she treats the opposing side.”

  Sally didn’t look impressed. “Well, I’m still not happy with her. I expected better.”

  I had been pissed yesterday, but the lawyer did know what she was talking about. I had tried my way and it hadn’t worked. I had to listen to someone who knew better than me.

  “It’s okay, Sally. I don’t think she was that far off base. I think we’re both trying to stay positive and not facing reality. She doesn’t think I have a leg to stand on when it comes to gaining custody. I’m not going to play tug-of-war with that little girl. I can’t do that to her. I’m going to try to get things organized and then try again,” I told her.

  “You’re not playing anything. You’re fighting to keep her with you so you can shower her with the love she deserves,” she shot back. “Don’t sit back and wait.”

  I sighed. I had been struggling to come to terms with what the lawyer had said since I left the building. The woman wasn’t being mean. She was being honest, which was a good thing. I needed to hear the truth, and the truth was harsh.

  “I’m going to focus on getting a job. That is my priority.”

  Sally nodded, and I headed inside to get ready for work. I couldn’t get Jake’s proposal off my mind. It was sounding better and better. I wasn’t sure if he had been serious, but it was worth considering now that I had found out I didn’t stand a chance of winning custody on my own.

  “Don’t even think about it,” I said to my reflection in the mirror, pointing an accusing finger at myself.

  Jake wasn’t good for anything but breaking hearts. He was not a good person, and I certainly didn’t need the headache of being married to him, even if it was only on paper. That was bad enough. Jake had left a string of broken hearts on his climb to the top. He’d hurt his parents when he disowned them. Tracy had tried to keep in touch with him. Then he proved, once again, to be a world-class douchebag when she got pregnant with Iris.

  What he did to me paled in comparison to what he had done to his family. It was best if Iris wasn’t subjected to that kind of pain and suffering. As much as I hated to admit it, Iris would be better off without her uncle in her life. That was a sad, terrible reality. I wanted to take him up on his offer only because I was being selfish. I wanted Iris, but I didn’t want him to have anything to do with her. I couldn’t have one without the other.

  “Dammit!” I cursed at the situation, slamming my brush against the bathroom counter. It was all so unfair.

  I dressed in the outfit I had put together late last night when I couldn’t sleep. It was a black pencil skirt with a simple white blouse. I had a few accounting firms on my list of targets to hit after work and wanted to make sure I looked the part of a serious accountant ready to sa
ve clients lots of money. In the back of my mind, I was holding on to the tiniest sliver of hope that I could land a great job and prove I was worthy of taking care of Iris. I knew there was a very slim chance of that happening, but it was a chance.

  “I’m headed out, Sally,” I said, finding her in the kitchen. “I’ll call and let you know what time I’ll be back. Maybe I can pick up takeout for us?”

  She smiled. “You don’t need to do that. I’ll make something.”

  “I’m not sure what time I’ll be home. I plan on stopping by at least three firms. I’m determined to make them at least interview me.”

  “Good. You don’t give up. You’re going to make a great accountant. Just flash that thousand-watt smile and someone will pay attention,” she said with a grin. “Maybe you should consider hiking up that skirt a little.”

  “Sally!”

  “In my day, a pretty girl who dressed to kill always had a shot at getting a foot in the door.”

  I shook my head. “That’s not the case these days. That’s risky business.”

  She grumbled something under her breath as I walked out the door. My phone rang as I was getting into the car. I looked at the screen but didn’t recognize the number. I remembered the last time I had answered a call with an unfamiliar number.

  I took a deep breath and steeled myself for more bad news.

  “Hello?”

  “Avery, it’s Jake.” His smooth voice came through the phone.

  “Jake?” I asked, not believing it was him on the other end of the phone.

  He had made it very clear he didn’t have time for me and brushed me off when I was at my lowest. He should have taken advantage of my weakness. He didn’t, and it was his loss.

  “Avery, I want to talk. Can you meet?”

  I scoffed. “Seriously?”

  “Yes. I think we need to try to figure all this out,” he said as if he were inviting me over for a cup of coffee.

  “Uh, no. Hell no. I called you yesterday and you were too busy to waste ten minutes of your day with me. Now you dare to call me? You’re a special kind of jerk, Jake Colter.”